


Women of Supernatural # 26: Lenore

by fannishliss



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Women of Supernatural
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-08
Updated: 2013-10-08
Packaged: 2017-12-28 18:04:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/994900
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fannishliss/pseuds/fannishliss
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>You might also like to read the story about <a href="http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/31575.html#cutid2">Kate, the vampire</a> from 1.20, "Dead Man's Blood;"  both stories talk about what makes the vampires different from the humans they once were.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Women of Supernatural # 26: Lenore

**Author's Note:**

> You might also like to read the story about [Kate, the vampire](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/31575.html#cutid2) from 1.20, "Dead Man's Blood;"  both stories talk about what makes the vampires different from the humans they once were.

Series: [42 Days of Metallicar](http://alias-chick.livejournal.com/) and the Women of Supernatural #26  
313 words. PG.   
Featuring: Lenore, a Vampire, from 2.03 "Bloodlust"  
Note: You might also like to read the story about [Kate, the vampire](http://fannishliss.livejournal.com/31575.html#cutid2) from 1.20, "Dead Man's Blood;"  both stories talk about what makes the vampires different from the humans they once were.

  
Lenore, mostly, mourns.

She knows that she is an aberration.  She knows her kind are nearly extinct, hated and Hunted, because of the things they do for the blood.

Sometimes the blood roars so loudly in her ears that it's all she can do not to sit in a corner, hands to her head, rocking, crying.

Sometimes, choking down the blood of animals, the gorge in her rises, along with despair.  The slow, stupid, blood of cattle roils in her belly, and her blood sings condemnations in her brain:

_starving_

stupid

pathetic

travesty

a waste, Lenore, you're a waste!

But then she remembers.  Really remembers.

She remembers when sunlight was golden and pleasant -- when it didn't try to dispel and destroy the unnatural thing inside her.

She remembers what it was like to smile -- smile because she was happy, not because she was trying to comfort her friends, or  lie to herself.

She remembers when she was more than a tattered constellation of hunger, anger, fear and fatigue -- more than a wary wolf leading a pack of ravening wolves.

She remembers loving her family and friends -- and this she can do, she swears by her soul, loving is something she still can do.

One thing she remembers is compassion, and really, it's all she has left. She knows how suffering is at the root of all things -- for Lenore, suffering is almost all there is. But it's in her power to make it a little bit better, safer, for her family, her friends --

And when the Winchesters spared her, when they tied up the monster, let her family gather and flee, guarded the bridge in their shiny black car until they were clear ---Lenore knew that the things she remembered were real.

Every day Lenore mourns what she has lost, but she remembers, and somehow, goes on.

 

 

   



End file.
